


Of Stillness and Stains

by flecksofpoppy



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Canon Backstory, First Time, Gift Fic, M/M, Missing Scene, Pre-Manga, canonverse, eruri - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-26
Updated: 2014-12-26
Packaged: 2018-03-03 17:19:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2858798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flecksofpoppy/pseuds/flecksofpoppy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>But this about <i>not</i> being clean, <i>not</i> minding spilled ink, <i>not</i> minding spilled blood; <i>not</i> thinking or strategizing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Stillness and Stains

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Cherry](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cherry/gifts).



> This fic was commished by the lovely licoriceallsorts (reglissenoire on tumblr) as a Christmas gift for the equally lovely Cherry! Hope you enjoy! <3

Levi doesn’t like to let things congregate or collect—Titans, dust, even old papers—since stillness is the most deadly type of position for a soldier to find themselves in.

A mutual despisal of waste and relics is the one thing that him and Erwin seemed to have in common from the beginning. After time some passed, they grew to know one another’s boundaries, weaknesses, and even simple tastes. It would be impossible not to, especially taking into account how exactly Levi entered the Survey Corp—closely intertwined from the beginning.

Every private room or desk that Erwin has ever occupied is meticulously neat, the way he arranges his papers and personal possessions. There’s never anything particularly ornate or heavy—nothing that can’t be left behind—and just like the man himself, anything left in the open is probably deceiving.

That being said, Erwin is spartan about his surroundings, truly simple in his tastes, and strategic in all of his maneuvers. There’s rarely a single action he carries out that lacks a specific goal or purpose.

Erwin also spurns sexual pleasure, as Levi learns from the various inevitable gossips that exist even within the military, and has supposedly been celibate for years. Some seem to think it’s because he lost the ability in battle to enjoy intimacy with a woman; others say it’s because his tastes lie on the “deviant” side of things; and still others insist that he’s simply too caught up in his goals to pay attention to anything else.

The first time that Levi became aware of his own desire is when Erwin knocked a small bottle of ink onto the floor one evening, uncharacteristically careless as he had talked about the last Survey mission. It hadn’t gone well; they’d lost almost everyone. It wasn’t new, but that fact never made it any less acceptable.

It was just as he was taking off his jacket, and he’d turned sharply. It might have been the smell of dried blood still on the fabric of his clothes, or maybe it was the way that the setting sun had burnished everything in the room to gold just before it sank behind the Wall. They were two of the only people in the whole of humankind to ever see a proper sunset on the horizon, not counting their dead comrades, which numbered more than those who returned.

The ink had fallen and spattered everywhere—it looked almost like blood on the unstained pine floor—and Levi’s eyes followed it in surprise.

Erwin had sighed, his eyes tired as he shook his head.

“I’ll clean it up,” Levi had offered indifferently, turning to searching for a rag, when Erwin had a made a derisive _tch_ sound between his teeth.

“It’s not pointless, since it will come out,” he had remarked suddenly, “but it stains terribly.”

Levi had raised a curious eyebrow at him, but kept his gaze carefully neutral. It wasn’t that Erwin was coming apart at the seams—a man like Erwin didn’t come apart at the seams, so much as explode in one great flash, like a canon—but still, something was off.

And strangely, Erwin had bent over to drag his index finger through the ink, staring at it as he looked up at Levi to raise an eyebrow.

It was too extreme for pure philosophy, since Erwin was usually a man of action, but Levi couldn’t help but be fascinated at the way it stained—like blood, or a stain that couldn’t be scrubbed off right away.

Ink was Erwin’s next most effective weapon than his ODM blades, and inside the Interior, even more so.

But it was then that Levi first became fascinated with Erwin’s hands; there was even a scar from the first time he’d said he would kill Erwin for the untimely deaths of his friends. It all seemed so long ago at that point.

They didn’t discuss it again, and the next time Levi met Erwin in his private rooms, the ink stain was completely gone.

= = =

Levi learns that Erwin does not seek the comforts of prostitutes, nor has he lost the ability to enjoy sexual pleasure. He learns this from someone from Erwin’s distant past—his earliest days as a military cadet, to be precise—who shows up one day and openly tells a few rather lewd stories about the commander’s apparent volatile passions in bed.

He learns subsequently that, while the woman is telling the truth, she’s been sent by a noble that currently has some sort of minor grudge against Erwin, and is looking to tarnish his reputation.

Erwin makes a show of sending her away as though she’s a raving lunatic, but Levi catches sight of money being exchanged—whether it’s a bribe for her never to return, or solely out of philanthropic interests, he’s unsure. With Erwin, it’s always been hard to tell where his true motives lie when it comes to social mores and expectations.

He can’t help but be curious, though, and he seeks Erwin out later in the evening.

He gives a polite knock on the door, and inside, Erwin calls at his unknown visitor to enter; when he sees Levi, he puts down his pen.

“Good evening,” he greets formally, watching Levi expectantly and folding his hands across the mass of papers on his desk.

“Hn,” Levi hums in response to Erwin, entering the stuffy drawing room where Erwin’s hidden himself away with a glass of liquor and a few new formation drafts he’s devised, “seems that gossips are like pigs in shit in this part of the Walls.”

Erwin looks up in surprise, but then his face is calm. “You mean today’s visitor?”

“Who else would I mean?” Levi asks flatly, moving to take a few steps forward to retrieve the other unused glass from the sideboard and fill it with a few fingers worth of whiskey. Only a few years ago, he would’ve never behaved in such a familiar manner, but now it’s like second nature.

There are things he can say to Erwin that he can’t—and wouldn’t—say to anyone else.

Then again, trust hasn’t served him well in the past; and yet he realizes as he keeps talking that it’s out of his control. That it’s been this way for longer than he even cares to admit.

“Is it true?” he asks.

“Is what true?” Erwin retorts in a calm tone, watching Levi carefully.

Levi raises an eyebrow at Erwin, taking a sip of his drink. “Any of it?”

Erwin finally drops his gaze, pinching the bridge of his nose and blinking heavily, before sitting up straighter in his chair to give Levi his full attention. Before he replies, he takes a sip of his drink; normally, he evaluates other people, but right now, he’s evaluating his answer.

“You, of all people, Levi, know how quickly things tarnish,” he remarks cryptically, swirling the amber alcohol in his glass reflectively. “And reputations are especially vulnerable.”

Levi takes a seat across from the giant desk Erwin is working at and shrugs indifferently. “That’s your business, not mine. And I’d never let my ODM blades tarnish. You, Erwin, of all people, should know that.”

He meets Erwin’s blue eyes straight on, and they stare at each other for a moment.

This is the second time since the spilled ink that Levi feels something has transformed in him, evolving from hatred, to loyalty, to familiarity, but now, that same something become hot. It’s the feeling of watching the sun arc from one edge of the earth to the other—a complete cycle, a fiery force that’s so massive in its heat and strength that it’s nearly inconceivable.

Just the sun, to someone who’d lived in the dark for their entire life, is enough of an awe-inspiring sight to suspend doubt or disloyalty. The idea of fighting for the sunrise, for freedom from every oppressive thing, is dazzling.

But the way that Erwin stares back at Levi isn’t dazzling; it’s fatigue and weariness—the gaze of a man who’s been the type of celibate that comes from fear of personal indulgence. 

Levi himself has never had any particularly strong feelings about pleasures of the flesh; like most things, pleasure is far less important than survival. But in Erwin’s gaze, there is something like lust sparking, something dangerous.

“Of course none of it is true,” Erwin finally replies, breaking eye contact with a sigh.

And like the sun, he turns away; and like someone who’s lived in the dark for too long, Levi follows.

Erwin’s starched shirt is warm and smells like the end of a day’s work when Levi grabs the front to haul him forward into a kiss. It’s rough and hard, but the way Erwin kisses back so hungrily reminds Levi of the way that Isabel and Farlan had looked when they first saw the sky—a terrible longing that only grew with indulgence.

Levi doesn’t waste time, pulling Erwin out of the chair and dragging him onto the floor with an urgent noise, wondering if Erwin will allow this, if his advances will be rejected, if this is a mistake.

But more simply than he ever would’ve thought, Erwin goes willingly, following Levi to the floor with a touch that’s urgent but not violent, as if he’s not sure this is actually happening. When their hips press together—Erwin on top—they start to rut against each other, and they both let out groans.

Just like his fighting style, Levi has never thought about the way he moves his body, the way that he kisses and wraps his legs around Erwin’s hips with a strength that no one ever expects; and a jolt of pleasure and something that feels like a leaded heartbeat kicks him in the chest over and over as Erwin bites at his neck.

Levi growls as he switches their positions, getting on top of Erwin and finishing what he first started with Erwin’s shirt, flicking open the buttons with deft fingers and pulling it open to reach skin. He kisses and bites there, and he hears Erwin groan and arch his back. He’s built more broadly than Levi, but he seems pliant, aching to be touched.

It’s not Levi’s first time doing this. He generally prefers men, if he prefers anything, but this leaves him feeling dizzy, because it’s his first time doing this with Erwin.

“Damn it,” he curses as Levi bites him a little harder, his fingers coming to twist in Levi’s hair, “this is—”

_Not what I was planning._

“What?” Levi growls. “Not what you want?”

Erwin gasps as Levi shifts and their cocks rub together, both stiff in their trousers, and they moan simultaneously.

“I didn’t ask you to join the Survey Corp to get you into my bed,” Erwin finally manages to grit out, an edge of guilt to his voice as he pulls his hands away even as he’s reaching to embrace Levi.

“No shit,” Levi grunts in response, snorting. He pulls away slightly to look directly into Erwin’s eyes, and they stare at each other again for a few moments.

Erwin’s neatly combed hair has gone askew, he’s slightly wide-eyed, as if genuinely not expecting what’s happening, and he’s actually panting. In short, he looks totally taken off-guard—a very rare expression to find on Erwin Smith’s face.

This time, the kiss is softer, slower, and Levi takes control of it, putting his hand behind Erwin’s neck and angling his head back slightly so his throat is bared.

Erwin makes a startled sound, but Levi keeps his hand there so he can nip down the delicate skin of Erwin’s jugular. He touches Erwin in vulnerable two places—the nape of the neck with strong fingers, and throat with his lips; Levi is careful with both.

And finally, Erwin gives in completely as he embraces Levi and kisses him messily, wrapping his hands down to grasp Levi’s ass and pulling his hips forward. It’s Levi’s turn to moan, and then everything starts to go faster.

Their clothes come off haphazardly, scattered around the floor—Levi’s jacket thrown on the floor alongside Erwin’s cloak, tie, cravat, everything—the Wings of Freedom twisted and unrecognizable in the folds of discarded fabric.

Erwin is long and naked, and Levi can’t help but study him in fascination. The way he fills out his clothes is true to form, with broad shoulders and scars scattered across his skin—collar bones standing out with a sizable cock flushed red and leaking precome as he ruts between Levi’s thighs.

Levi has never seen Erwin completely unthinking the way he is now, totally disarmed. It’s both unnerving and intoxicating, but he forgets when Erwin reaches down to squeeze his thighs tightly with a moan.

He gasps and smooths his own hands down Erwin’s arms to his shoulders, balancing above him as he pushes their bodies fully together—all skin and scars—and kisses Erwin again. 

“How long has it been?” Levi asks bluntly.

Erwin raises an eyebrow as Levi draws back. “Years,” he replies simply. 

A long time away from anything resembling pleasure, spent poring over formations created for the walking dead.

“Hn,” Levi hums noncommittally, before pulling away to lean over to the drawer he knows Erwin keeps the slippery oil used for cleaning ODM gear, as well as other things that routinely go on in cadet quarters.

As he pulls the drawer open, though, he just stares at the sight that meets him right next to the oil.

Stacked in a few haphazard piles, there are at least fifty Wings of Freedom patches, some of them bloodied, obviously torn from the jackets of fallen comrades. He just stares for a moment, his eyes widening.

“I keep them,” Erwin says, his voice back to its typical smooth sound. “To remember. I don’t collect things normally, but...”

Levi just stares for another minute, and nods slowly as he shuts the drawer shut and keeps the oil in his hand.

Erwin Smith apparently sits, planning strategies while sitting next to a pile of his dead comrades’ emblems, as he prepares to send more of them to their deaths.

“I’ve never completely understood you until now,” Levi finally remarks, opening the bottle and pouring some into his palm.

“Are you disappointed?” Erwin replies humorlessly.

“I’m impressed,” Levi replies as he reaches down to take Erwin by surprise and give his sensitive cock a few smooth strokes. “I think I’d go insane.”

“ _Shit_ ,” Erwin gasps, back arching again and his eyes screwing shut, reaching up to twist his hand in his own hair. “Not insane,” Erwin says through gritted teeth as Levi starts to stroke him, his hips moving even as he tries to keep them still, “just not blind.”

“I don’t want you to say anything else,” Levi commands, although now even his calm voice is wavering as he rubs Erwin’s slippery cock teasingly between his own buttocks slowly, “except my name. Do you understand?”

Erwin opens his mouth, but then shuts it as he stares up at Levi. He’s flushed, and the ornate rug they’re lying on seems out of place amidst a sea of twisted and stained Wings of Freedom.

But this about _not_ being clean, _not_ minding spilled ink, _not_ minding spilled blood; _not_ thinking or strategizing.

“Say my name,” Levi repeats, “and that’s all.”

Finally, Erwin nods, looking dazed, and Levi leans forward to kiss him, to meet and satisfy the hunger he tastes on Erwin’s lips.

When they part with a gasp—Erwin leaves Levi breathless—and he shamelessly hands the oil to Erwin and directs him to coat his fingers.

“Pleasure me with your fingers,” he commands, straddling Erwin, but shimmying further up so Erwin can reach between his legs, “and get me ready for your cock.”

Erwin groans, his mouth falling open as he starts to pant and does exactly as directed, pouring oil onto his fingers.

They both let out quiet cries as Erwin presses a finger into Levi without much direction, and Levi makes an encouraging sound.

“ _Levi_ ,” Erwin shudders as Levi rolls his hips. 

It’s the first time Erwin’s said his name, and Levi closes his eyes, letting Erwin’s finger penetrate him. 

Apparently, Erwin’s also not totally unfamiliar with men in his bed, because he knows exactly how to curl his finger and search around for that magical spot. As soon as he finds it, Levi’s back arches from where he’s balancing on his knees, and he lets out a soft cry.

“There,” Levi pants huskily, not trusting his own voice to work. “Add another finger.”

Erwin doesn’t even hesitate, but he’s careful as he slowly works two fingers into Levi; it’s really the fact it’s Erwin fucking him with two fingers that makes Levi’s cock throb. The prodigal sun himself—the one to be trusted, even though trust has always ended in death for Levi.

But he trusts Erwin with his everything as he pulls away, letting the fingers slip out of him as he positions himself above Erwin’s cock. He trusts as he presses both of his hands against Erwin’s chest to balance himself, trusts as he slowly sinks down onto that slippery, large cock, easing it in at his own pace as Erwin groans and tosses his head back, one hand gripping a cast off pair of the trousers and the other clamped onto Levi’s thigh in an unforgiving grip.

“Levi,” he groans again, his mouth falling open as he tries to breathe, “Levi...”

Levi revels in the sound of his own name, no longer in control now as he starts to ride Erwin’s cock; he loves the way that their skin slides together, the obscenely messy way that the oil and precome sounds as he works his body, the way his cock slaps against his own belly as he pumps his hips hard.

He wants to see his come spattered across Erwin’s skin, wants to see things imperfect just for them; not the way that reputations tarnish and need cleaning, not human plagues and secrets, but just this one indulgence of pleasure.

“Levi... I’m...” Erwin shudders, and his hips start to flex.

Levi knows what it means, and just lets him do it, letting Erwin come inside of him; and just as he wants, with a few pumps of his own cock with his still-slick hand, he comes violently over Erwin’s chest and stomach, his back arching sharply and a long, low moan escaping his throat. 

After a moment of breathing through aftershocks and trembling, he finds the strength to move and lets Erwin slip out of him. As he pulls away, though, to his surprise, Erwin pulls him back down for another kiss.

When they part, Levi sits up partially while Erwin just remains lying on the floor, trying to catch his breath.

Abruptly, his blue eyes flick up to meet Levi’s. “I do go insane some days,” he says suddenly, but then shrugs slightly. “In the way we all do, I suppose.” He shakes his head, sitting up and touching the bite marks tentatively that Levi left on his throat. “So much death is unnatural to humankind.”

“Is it?” Levi replies, raising an eyebrow. “I wouldn’t know.”

“Death?” Erwin asks in surprise.

“I wouldn’t know if death is unnatural,” Levi remarks dryly, not feeling an ounce of self-pity. It’s the simple truth. “I’ve always lived around it.”

Erwin nods a little. “Same.”

“You convinced me a long time ago,” Levi says, getting to his feet on shaky legs, “that all of this—the Survey Corp and scouting missions—was the right course of action.”

“And so... what is this, then?” Erwin asks, gesturing vaguely between them.

Levi offers a humorless smile, but it’s a genuine statement. “I enjoyed this—this was pure indulgence. Did you?”

Erwin seems a little taken aback by the question, and he gets to his feet, too, before answering.

“It’s... distracting.”

Levi studies the conflicted look on Erwin’s face, and acts quickly as he pulls Erwin down for another kiss, breaking away just as quickly when they’re both practically panting again as he turns to retrieve his clothes. 

He pulls on his trousers, shirt, and jacket, does the cravat up with the ease of practice, and then turns to Erwin as he finishes off the remaining whiskey in his glass.

“If you want it,” he says simply, “holding back isn’t going to help.”

Erwin gives Levi that look again—the tired one, that no one else sees—and he seems to be pondering the proposition.

“I’m here until I’m not,” Levi says wryly. “And you can’t fuck a patch in a drawer, so—”

Erwin holds his hand up for Levi to stop talking, shaking his head. “Come to me again tomorrow?” he finally asks quietly.

“You come to _me_ ,” Levi immediately retorts, “and I’ll give you what you want, because I want it, too. Then, maybe those moronic gossips will have something to really talk about.”

Erwin laughs wryly at that, and then gives a languid stretch that catches Levi’s gaze immediately before tearing himself away. 

He leaves Erwin’s study with his shirt properly tucked in and uniform neatly assembled, his lips still tingling from Erwin’s slow, hungry kisses, and he thinks that something so slow—so terrifyingly close to stillness—is worth dying for.


End file.
